Quarter To Three
by csinyfan28
Summary: It was her job, her duty, her motto –service before self. She feels as if everyone in the world is living, and she's just watching it all happen. Deep down inside her bruising heart, she bares the burden of a secret storm. - A three chaptered short story.
1. Chapter 1

**Quarter**** to Three**

_Chapter One: Before Self_

The condensation built up into miniscule droplets on the silver reflective glass that hung in her bathroom across the shower. Raising her hand to the center of the mirror, she gave it a quick window-wiper motion until she could see her reflection in the glass. She let out an exhausted breath and then a long, much needed yawn quickly followed. She checked in late last night well, 2:32am to be exact as she had to temporarily fulfill in the superior role while he was away.

She grabbed the towel hanging off its designated handle gave it a quick shuffle before taking it up to her wet hair and wrapping it into some sort of swirled formation. Removing another towel from the chest of linens, she quickly dried off the rest of her body. She pulled a few slices of tissue paper from the cardboard box and dabbed off the small streak of deep red that ran down the exterior of her calf. She hissed slightly upon seeing how deeply the razor truly cut her. She let out a pent breath and pulled out a small plastic box from underneath the sink. She quickly bandaged the cut and continued with her regular morning endeavours.

Wrapping the towel tightly around her body, she walked into her bedroom and pulled out two pieces from her lingerie chest. Taking a few steps to her right, she opened her closet and examined her selections closely. She held up some purple shirt that she wore once, studied it and came up with a thesis on what kind of impression it would make. She pressed her lips together and hung it back up in her closet. Instead, she took out a grey-toned blue long sleeve with a V-cut neckline, a new piece she bought a week ago. Moving to her pant selection, she decided upon something regular – black skinnies that matched all of her black, leather boots.

She put on her newly assembled outfit and accompanied the ensemble with touches of her signature silver niches, and of course, her black Timex watch that she never left the house without. As if some routinely procedure that occurred everyday at 7:38am, she quickly moved herself into her bathroom. Blow drying her hair straight and added touches of mascara, eyeliner and a tinted lip balm would have to do for today. She stared into the mirror as she pushed opened her eyelids to place her contacts in. She blinked several times, looked at herself carefully and couldn't decide if it was worth the effort to impress someone who never notices. She guessed her charm had once interested him but she knew that was long ago and everything had changed since. She was now more reserved, subtle and held back as she her past attempts to trifle with him evidently went unnoticed.

She exited her bathroom then her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Making her way out of her corridor, she smiled slightly as she saw the violet-purple room to her right was already empty, cleaned and saw that the bed was made too. To her surprise, she saw that Ellie was by the fridge holding a carton of milk and fully dressed in her school uniform. The corners of her mouth curled up lightly and as she entered the kitchen, she greeted, "Good morning, sweet heart."

"Good…." the young girl started as she stifled out a yawn and then finished with, "morning."

She walked over to the coffee machine, placed a new coffee filter into its proper place and turned it on. She grabbed her travel mug that was in the dishwasher and silver spoon and placed them both on the counter. She watched as the coffee began to drip and took in the smell of Folgers. Mesmerized by the buzzing of the coffee machine, she began to stare at it, watching each drop of brown liquid flow into the glass pot. At a time it seemed so close that if she reached out her finger, she could touch it but with a blink of an eye, it went out of her reach and found residence elsewhere. They say if you dream something more than once, it's sure to come true. But, she has seen him so many times before.

"Mom…" The girl called out but was given no response. "Mom!" Ellie tried again but she continued to look at the brown liquid filling up the pot.

She extrapolated that the only solution was to simply step back and be a bystander. But, she could never find a remedy to suppress the tightening in her chest whenever he called her name, whether it was out of duty or for greeting purposes. All she wanted from life was security. To know that she and those she loved was safe was all she yearned for. For those brief moments when he took her in his arms, she couldn't feel more safe.

"Mom!" Her daughter yelled out loudly in which finally pulled her out of her morning thoughts. She quickly shook her head in confusion and with a raise of her eyebrows she asked, "What?"

"Your phone is ringing!" Ellie said with urgency and pointed in the direction of the counter where the mobile device was trilling.

She quickly turned her head and saw the device buzzing and ringing uncontrollably. She darted towards it and picked it up, almost dropping it on the floor. Clicking the green 'accept' button and stammered, "D-Danville."

"Jo, what took you so long?" He asked with a confused voice. She let out a tight sigh that sounded as if it was almost a gasp. Now, it wouldn't have surprised her as much if it was any other day. However, it was unexpected to hear his voice this morning as he was supposed to be with someone else, somewhere else.

"Sorry, I couldn't find my phone." She explained in attempt to cover up the true reason. She moved back to her where her coffee machine was situated and opened the drawer right under it. She pulled out a spoon and set it on the counter beside her travel mug.

"Jo, listen…" He started as his voice descended from a greeting to a rather worried tone.

"Yeah." She simply said as she placed her phone between her ear and her shoulder, unaware the of the seriousness of his call. She filled her coffee mug and poured a spoonful of sugar in the steaming liquid. She waited for his reply but became bewildered as she garnered no response from him. There was a moment of silence that stretched between them. "What's going on? You sound worried." She asked. Her approach was laced with concern as she held the spoon still in her hand, somewhere between midair and the edge of her travel mug and left the sugar unstirred. Her brows furrowed together and an evident crease crept in the centre of her forehead.

"I need you and the team to..." He stated honestly. She heard him blow out a quick breath and along with a slight pant that rushed from his rubato tone. He gathered his composure and decided what to say next. His heart was pounding in his chest and the pace of his breathing quickened. He clenched his in a tight ball and his knuckles turned a shade of white.

She listened attentively beyond his voice. She heard a few murmurs of busy voices in the background and a rather stark voice calling out familiar locations, the word 'terminal' and a few numbers. Her mouth hung slightly agape and she asked, "Mac, where are you?" Again, she had no response from him. She knew it was not the cellphone reception as she could clearly hear all the background noises and his slight agitated breathing. She put the spoon down and took firmly took hold of the phone with her hand. She stated sternly, "Tell me what's going on, Mac."

"It's Christine." He breathed. She could tell that he was clearly worried, confused, frustrated but she could hear something in his voice that she had never heard before and she tried to pinpoint this emotion.

"What happened?" She asked carefully, unaware of the true circumstance and reason of his call.

"She was kidnapped but she's still in New York" He said in one quick breath. She figured out what he was feeling, a feeling that she rarely saw or heard in a man. She swallowed hard. She closed her eyes slightly and licked her bottom lip, unable to compose herself and scrambled for what she was going to say next.

"I'm flying back. I'll be in New York in five hours" He continued.

"I'll see you then" was all she could say in return. She swallowed again and suddenly she lacked of oxygen as her chest became tighter.

"Jo, we need to find her." He stated in a low, firm voice that was intertwined with urgency. She heard him swallowing hard. The last four words caused a familiar ache at the pit of her stomach. She heard that emotion again in his voice. He was feeling something he probably never felt in a long time. He felt something for Christine that no man had ever felt for her. He was scared, scared for her life. Scared of losing her. Scared of never holding her again.

"We will." She said with a mask of confidence. She hung up her phone and slid it into her pocket. She wondered and thought hard. She had to do it, she had no choice. She had to do it out of duty and she had to push away her feeling of pathetic jealously. She shook her head and cleared her thoughts as she moved towards her bag.

"Ellie…." She said as she rummaged through the interiors of her over the shoulder bag. She took out a crumpled twenty dollar bill and placed it on the counter. "Here. You're gonna have to take the subway to school." She flipped over her wrist and pushed up the sleeve of her blue top. She checked her watch and urged, "you can still make it if you hurry it up."

"Why?" The girl asked and her head immediately darted upwards as she watched her mother's frantic movements across the kitchen.

"I've got an important case." She simply said as she grabbed her leather jacket that was left hanging on the chair. She threw it over herself and quickly tucked her arms in its sleeves. She eyed her coffee that was still left on the counter and decided to leave it but realized that the coffee machine was still on. "El, turn off the coffee machine and dump out my coffee."

"Sure." She replied. She got up from the kitchen table and did as she was told. She could sense the unfamiliar, frantic urgency in her mother's voice and she had to ask what was going on. She started to move towards her mother but faltered when she heard her keys hit the floor with a rather loud clash. "Mom, what's going on? You're usually not..."

"...Mac's girlfriend was kidnapped." Jo immediately cut her off as she bent over to pick up her bundle of keys.

"Mom…"

"It's just another case, Ellie." She exclaimed as swung her bag over her shoulder. She let out a quick breath in which turned into a sigh as she headed towards the door. "I have to do everything I can to find her."

She watched as her mother slipped her feet into her regular leather boots. She crossed her arms and continue to eyed her mother's movements as she went back to her bowl of cereal sitting on the kitchen table. "I'm not going to the movies tonight. I'll be volunteering at the retirement home around the corner from Lacey's." The girl explained as she took a seat. She took the the silver tablespoon and gave her cereal an absent-minded stir.

That got her attention. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to contemplate her daughter's decision of giving up something she loved to volunteer. She stopped for a minute and narrowed her eyes at her daughter. "Ellie, but you've been waiting for this movie for..."

"Service..." Ellie interuppted with a quiet voice but audible enough for her mother to hear. "… Before self."

She looked at her daughter carefully and pressed her lips together. That was what she had taught her daughter; to always serve others before serving herself, to make someone else happy first before making herself happy. She rang that motto through her head again and the derived meaning was all the same when it filtered through her brain. But, when her daughter said it like that, it meant something different and gave the motto a much more powerful, subjective meaning. Ellie was speaking in different terms, and she very well knew it. Her eyes dragged away from the girl and she slowly nodded as she began, "Your lunch is in the fridge." She stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind her.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I apologize if it was too verbose. I'm not quite sure if Ellie was too mature for her age but then again, Ellie and I are very close in age. So, I wrote her a little like me! **

**I apologize for any spelling mistakes you might see but, I must point out that we Canadians spell things differently. We spell color as 'colour, favorite as 'favourite', center as 'centre' - just a heads up!**

**Chapter 2 will be up soon! ****Of course, reviews are always appreciated! Please tell me your thoughts and comments!**


	2. Fifteen Minutes

_Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form do i own CSI:NY. The rightful writers and production company own this wonderful show and all its characters._

* * *

**Quarter To Three**

_**Chapter Two: Fifteen Minutes**_

"Hi. May I come in?"

She saw him turn his head slightly to his right to see her standing by the entrance of his doorway. He let out an exhausted breath, which did not go unnoticed by her. In barely an audible whisper, he answered with a simple, "Yeah"

She barely heard him but decided to take a seat to the right of him on the red leather couch anyway. She automatically sensed the tension that was boiling inside of him. She wanted to take him by the shoulders and give them a squeeze to relieve the stress or give him a simple back rub but she knew that would indicate a more than friendly gesture. "How are you?" She asked softly but then quickly realized that her imposed question was a rather ignorant one. She wanted to take the question back but knew it was already too late and decided to let him answer how he wanted to.

"I don't know." He answered softly as he continued to look straight ahead. "Jo…." he began again but a slight pause followed as if he was refused of oxygen. She heard him inhale a long draw of air, held it in and then heard him swallowing hard. The way he said her name sent a shock of unexplainable pain through her body and she wanted to hold him, even if it was only just for a second until the circumstance would force them apart. But, instead, she continued to look at the side of his face until he unexpectedly turned to look directly into her eyes. She felt her breath hitch in her throat and she too, lacked oxygen. His pupils twitched slightly and in a soft whisper he said, "I love….

With the moment of a slight pause that he left after those two words, she could feel her entire supply of blood rush towards her vital organ and then pumped out as it if was foreign and unwanted. Even though she was sitting, she felt as if she was about to collapse so she gripped onto her knee for support. Who did he love? Love, a word that rang strangely in her ears, especially coming from a man like him. She heard him draw in another breath as he murmured, "I love Christine and I can't get the image of…."

Then he quickly looked away again which caused another sharp stab of pain in the pit of her stomach, which ran up her veins and pulsated through the rest of her body. She wanted him to look at her so he could see the emotions in her eyes, the empathy, sympathy and her suppressed tenderness towards him. "Oh, Mac…" she breathed. She thought about placing her hand on his to give him some understanding comfort but quickly retracted the thought.

"Nothing means more to me than her." He said softly and honestly. She watched him take his index finger and his thumb to the bridge of his nose as he gave it a slight pinch. Then he brought his hands together, folded them and rested his elbows on his lap as he leaned forward. He continued to stare straight ahead with corrugated brows and a frown of hurt, worry and fear.

The silence tore between them, as she took no more than three seconds to look at him, to study him, to analyze him. On the phone, she could hear the fear in his voice but now, she was sitting no more than two inches away from him and she could see and feel his fear. He truly illustrated man's greatest cause of uneasiness, panic, distress and anxiety – fear of the unknown. Fear of an unanswered question. Fear of uncertainty. That scared the hell out of him and she very well knew it.

"We won't sleep until she's found." She said quietly and reassuringly. She cringed at her words and wished she could take them back as she was making a promise that she didn't know if she could fulfill. But, for a second, she thought long and hard. She was doing it for him and she would make it an obligation, like her own unsigned contract, to fulfill her promise.

Then without even thinking, she took her hand and placed it on top of his knuckles and gave it a firm squeeze. Upon realizing what she had just done, she had no time to retract but was glad as hell she did it. The gesture was to give him comfort but it appeared as if she gained more of the pleasure than he did. She smiled lightly at him and said her vow, "Mark my word"

* * *

An hour before, she watched him through the two-way glass as he interrogated Zane Kalim. She had no other way to put but she had to deem him as 'violent' but she knew he had a reason behind his actions. He was desperate for answers, desperate for _her_ safety, _her_ protection and most definitely, desperately to hold _her_ in his arms again. And in that moment of his anguished distress, she saw him pull Kalim's arm back behind the chair as he glared down at him with eyes of burning anger. She presumed that he was squeezing his wounded arm, effectively demonstrating his anger and his willingness to do anything to get the woman he loves back. She couldn't remember if she felt more sympathetic for him or more jealous of her but either way, there was still some unbearable pain that scarred her smile.

And now, it was time. With her hands holding onto a pen and unconsciously clicking it with her thumbs, she looked into his office through the glass walls of lab. She watched him reach to the center of his desk to grab his phone as it rang. Fifteen minutes until the designated call time. _Two forty-five_.

"Fifteen minutes 'til the call" She said to the tall, white haired man who stood on the opposite side of Adam with his arms folded across his chest. She saw that he was watching Mac attentively through the glass and he let out a sigh.

"This is a lot for anyone to handle, even Mac." He murmured honestly as he quickly looked at her through the corner of his black framed glasses.

She paused for a moment and nodded in agreement as she replied, "Puts a burden of the case on his shoulders even if it's a stranger… now it's Christine" She said softly and looked away quickly. Seeing him like this, as if he was a part of some antic disposition, made her stomach churn, engulfing it in sour uneasiness. She expresses quietly, "It makes me worry. He's not going to stop until he finds them."

"Mac's lucky to have you. " She smiles lightly upon hearing his words. For a moment, she felt proud of herself and proud that she could support Mac, her friend. But that moment almost instantaneously withered away as she heard, "all of you."

She cocks up her eyebrow, pressed her lips together and nodded slightly. Those words sunk deep into her, piercing her like some sort of intangible knife, stinging her like salt to a wound. She stands still as she continues to look into his office and she could do nothing but nod at his words accompanied by a faint smile.

"Excuse me." D.B excuses himself as he exits the room. She eyes his leaving through the glass and assumes that he is following Mac, something she was urged to do as well. She was honestly contemplating on following D.B, asking him if she could join. But, something in her gut pulled her back to the night in October and his words began to replay in her head.

And within a few minutes of his departure, Danny walks into to accompany her and Adam with a beige colour file in his hand. In his native New York accent he states, "DNA came back on a tongue. It belongs to a male."

"Oh thank god" She said as she released her unconscious hold of her breath. She couldn't decide whether she truly thanked the good Lord for such news or if she said it to mask her false relief. Her thoughts were automatically interrupted as she heard the phone ring. She stared at it, contemplating whether she should take the call. With its second ring, she looked into his office. _Empty._

"Where the hell is Mac?" Danny questions upon realizing that his boss was missing.

"What do you wanna do?" Adam asked. She looked at the blond haired man through the corner of her eye as he spoke and she wanted to chuckle, giggle or let out some sort of amusement. She found it solemnly funny that people looked up to her for advice. Jo, what should we do now? Jo, what do you think of this? Mom, which one? Ms. Danville, how would you go about this? Detective Danville, what's the next step? Who did she have to turn to? She was a figure and she couldn't really understand why. She thought, how can a cup that's half empty be looked at as a cup that's half full?

The trill of the phone quickly pulled her out of her thoughts and her eye quickly darted back to it. She extended her hands outwards before the third ring and his October words crashed through her head again. Her hand retracted slightly and she bit on her bottom lip. She thought hard of the consequences of her anticipated actions and decided quickly, "I'm taking it."

"This is Detective Jo Danville. Whom am I speaking with?" She asked with a shaky but confident voice. She used her voice of interrogation, the voice of stern and firm sincerity, warning the caller of her determination. Some muffled, disguised voice spat out instructions to her that made her heart pound. She picked up the call; she placed the burden of_ her_ safety on her shoulders. She swallowed heart and she asked, "Where are Christine and Shawn?"

"Fifteen minutes."

The time limit rang through her head like some sickening cry and it nearly broke her. Her mind was running at a thousand miles per second. She felt slightly dizzy as she thought of his devastation if she were to not fulfill her duty. In a shaky voice that was unnaturally an octave higher she whispered, "Hello?"

* * *

She walked carefully down the corridor of the precinct, trying to wrap her head around the events of tonight. Exhaustion was smothered across her face and it engulfed every muscle of her tense body. Adrenaline had rushed through her so many times today that it nearly drained every ounce of energy left in her system. To say the least, she was put through hell – a living hell that nobody knew of.

"Oh Mac." She said softly as he breathed out his name. His name, all of its syllables, felt so good coming from her lips and she it was an internal cry to the heavens for it to be the last name on her lips. She put her arms around his neck to give him comfort but in a way, for a moment, she was putting the weight of her world on him for a temporarily feeling of support. She felt his hand gently pulling her in to reciprocate the embrace. His name was still chiseled on her lips but she forced herself to say _her_ name to break the slight awkwardness. She gratefully said, "Thank God we got Christine back"

She asked him how _she_ was and he replied with a statement of her condition and her whereabouts. In her honest heart, she couldn't find enough blood to pump out any feeling of concern. She ridiculed herself for it and knew it was wrong to feel such a thing.

"I'm sorry I kept you in the dark. If there was any other way…." He began to apologize. His apology was rather foreign as Mac was not much of a man to say, 'sorry'.

"I know." She interrupted his sentence. It was a thing about trust and how foreign it was in their relationship. She honestly had trusted and will trust him with all of her being. But, for the three years of her working with him, he had yet to allow her to carry some of his burden. She would willingly open her arms to help him but he would shut her out, acting as if he was Atlas who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Oh one more thing. The guy you arrested. He told this wild story about you playing this game of Russian roulette. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"It's not much of a game when the gun's empty." He said with the slightest of a grin smeared across his exhausted face.

She smiled at him softly as an indication of; 'goodnight' and she turned the other way to walk out of the precinct. She imagined the scenario in her head. A part of her was in utter shock that he would pull something rogue like he did, as it was a tad out of character for him. But, the other part of her understood her actions as it all came back to the single soul he was saving. Then again, she felt a selfish feeling of pity for herself as she has never been the object of fear.

"Hey, Jo." He said quickly and she turned on her heel upon hearing his voice call her name. His voice was music to her ears; melodious with an undertone of husky, low octave harmony. She could usually derive his feelings and intentions from the start of the conversation but this time she was left in a haze.

"Yeah." She answered softly and took a few steps towards him and he did the same. She looked directly into him and for a second, she felt her knees buckle slightly.

"Thank you."

There was a moment of silence that stretched between them but she continued to look into his eyes. They were glistening with joy and gratitude and she could do nothing but smile. She leaned back slightly on the desk behind her and rested her bottom on its edge. She took a deep breath and composed her words carefully. "I know how much she means to you. It's our job to follow the science and I'm…." she paused for moment as she wanted to find the appropriate word to say next. Her eyes darted away but quickly darted back to him. With a slight nod of her head she said, "… relieved we found her in time."

He found a space on the edge of the desk, leaned against it beside her and his eyes were fixated on the tiled floor. He let out a breath and she could tell that he was thinking of telling her what was on his mind but something, she didn't know what, was causing him to hesitate. "Mac, what's on your mind?" she asked sincerely. She saw how he was on the brink of telling her but pulled back again. With her most urging but soft voice she said, "It's only me, Mac."

"There was a moment today where I went back to that dark place. The same dark place I fell into after Claire, where I felt completely useless because I couldn't do anything to stop it from happening." He said wholeheartedly without looking at her. She was rather surprised that he told her what he did as he previously clearly emphasized the bold line between his personal and professional life. Through his voice, she heard the tension that was gripping at him and her darn empathetic heart started to mirror it. His words altered her body's equilibrium as she felt her blood rush down to her knees and back up to her throat, hitching a tight pocket of air there.

"Mac, she's here, she's back. You've got her and she's lucky as hell to have you." She told him with brutal honesty. When someone is brought back into the light, the ones who are still in the dark are often left forgotten. She blinks in irony; it's funny how everyone thinks that Christine is the broken one but really, she's the one who needed saving.

"I really appreciate it, Jo."

Leaning forwards to get up from the desk, she smiled at him softly as a silent gesture of 'you're welcome' or 'don't mention it'. A smile, humanity's two faced fool, was her greatest accessory. She began to walk backwards towards the exit as she lifted her hand to wave at him. She wanted to articulate something clever to say but lacked of the words. Instead she said softly, "Goodnight, Mac."

Stepping into the cold winter night, she shivered slightly as the frosty breeze caressed her neck and down her spine. It was quarter to three when he got the call, quarter to three when the world stood still for her, quarter to three when the timer had begun. In one hundred of the nine hundred second time limit, she saw what true love was.

She places one foot in front of the other, down the same path, the same concrete blocks that lead to the same destination. Home, she was heading homeward – the only place where she was guaranteed shelter and warmth. She wanted for him to acknowledge her like he used to and maybe, just maybe, one day she would be able to feel his touch, to feel his warmth, to feel what it would be like under his shelter. She let out a quick sigh into the wool of her scarf – a withdrawal of breath that provides only temporary relief. And with the next intake of the chilly air, the reality comes crashing back into her system again. Sometimes she feels like everyone in the world is living… and she's just watching it all happen.

.

.

.

.

* * *

**A/N: Sincerely hoped that you enjoyed this chapter! I was listening to Rihanna's song, "Stay" in which was kind of the inspiration for this chapter! **

**I was really thinking about it. Each chapter of this short story can stand-alone as it's own one shot but you can see it as one continuous story or three separate one-shots! The next chapter will be up very soon! You will see what I mean!**

**I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors you might come across. Sometimes those pesky things just fly right above my head, over the hairspray! As always, please leave a review to tell me what you think! **


	3. Down On My Knees

**Quarter to Three**

_**Chapter Three: Down on my Knees**_

"Ellie, I'm home." Her voice pierces through the silence of her dark, empty apartment. She expected to immediately hear her daughter's voice but she garnered no response. Her daughter had no plans tonight and if she did, she was not made aware about them. With the aid of the dim city lights that peaked through her windows, she is able to take off her shoes and place them by the edge of the wall. She unzipped her leather jacket hoodie, hung it up in her closet and allowed her blue scarf to join it on the hanger.

"Ellie?" She calls out again but once again, she hears nothing and a slight uneasiness stirs up in her stomach. But, she calms herself, as she knows her adolescent daughter is sometimes oblivious to her mother's presence. She flips her wrist over and checks her Timex. It was a quarter to midnight - perhaps Ellie was already in bed and fell asleep while listening to her iPod?

"Ellie…." She raises her voice slightly as she quickens her pace on her journey to her daughter's bedroom. Through the space between the bottom edge of the door and the floor, she could see the soft glow of light escaping through the small gap. The corners of her lips curl upwards as she smiles at the thought that there was someone at home waiting for her.

She opens the door to a slight sliver and sees her daughter sitting cross-legged on the bed with a book in hand and surely enough; she also had her headphones in. She opened the door all the way and leaned on the doorframe with her arms crossed. Her face is dressed with a little smirk just to see how long the girl would take to notice her. Two solid minutes passed until she caught Ellie's attention. The girl immediately removed her headphones and greeted, "Oh, hi mom."

"Did you hear me call you?" She asked as she walked towards the bed with her arms still folded across her chest.

"Oops… sorry, mom."

"Why are you still up?" She wondered as she takes a quick glance at the digital clock on the nightstand; suggestively implying the late hour that lit up on the screen.

"I've got a French novel study due Monday. I barely started!" The girl explained and she couldn't help but let out a slight chuckle. She remembered those days when all she had to worry about was handing in an assignment or what to wear the next day. She smiled as she ran Ellie's future through her head; she had so much ahead of her, so much time, so many opportunities.

"How do you manage to listen to…. One Direction while reading a book?"

"I have my ways." Ellie said with a sly grin on her face as she places her bookmark in her book and closes it. She rests her palm on its cover and says, "I'm reading Les Miserables. Can't I just watch the movie instead of reading this thing in French?"

"It has a beautiful story line, honey."

"Yeah, my teacher told me to think about why, 'the loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest and the most damaged people are the wisest'. I have to read the entire book to figure out why, but I already think I know why. Do you?" Ellie asked her mother and intention rang through her words. The girl was too wise beyond her years and she couldn't decide if she should take it as a blessing or a curse.

She thought about the question and she licked her lips, feeling its slight dryness. Her eyes were fixated on her daughter's face and she tried her best to formulate some reasonable answer. She knew why; she was one of those people. Prior to answering, she shook her head carefully and then finally said, "No, I don't think I know. Why don't you tell me when you're done?"

"Okay. How was work?"

She felt like her daughter had just turned the tables on her as she was the one who usually asked a similar question after her day at school. For a flash of a second, she felt as if Ellie as the mother and she was some helpless little child. She tried to articulate an answer that wouldn't sound suggestive but wanted to say something that her perceptive daughter would just shrug off. She drew in a short breath of air and said, "the usual." She had answered dishonestly- deep down in her plagued heart, she knew 'usual' was not the word to effectively describe any part of her day. And she mentally kicked herself as it was the exact same thing Ellie would say when she would ask, _"how was school_?"

Ellie didn't say anything in return and instead, she simply looked at her as if she was waiting for an addition to her answer. She saw her tilt her head slightly and she knew she had to give the girl a little more information than what she had just spat out. "We found her. She's at Trinity but she's doing fine."

"Mama?" She heard her daughter's voice rise to an octave peak. She looked into her eyes and she saw someone she knew; herself.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?" Ellie asked carefully and she could tell that the girl was fearful and eager of what her answer might be. The curly, black haired girl had blossomed into a fifteen year-old insightful, mature young lady. She had also developed an incredible sense of empathy towards others, just like her mother. Without taking her eyes off of her, Ellie placed the paperback book carefully on the edge of the side table. She saw as her daughter tilted her head slightly as she waited attentively for a response.

Jo adjusted slightly on the edge of the bed and ended up sitting in a cross-legged position too. She nodded her head softly and in a whisper she answered, "Yeah." She pressed her lips together and forcefully curled the corner of her mouth upwards. It was those little white lies that she had to tell to get through life. It was those little white lies that calmed the storm in someone else's eyes while she secretly searched for shelter. Her gaze found a loose little thread on the duvet as she wrapped it around her finger to subconsciously play with it. Then, she quietly repeated, "Yeah I am."

"Mom, can I ask you something else?" the girl asked again. Ellie looked at her mother directly in her eyes, the window to her sadness, her sorrow, her fears and her soul. They shared a moment of silence together and Jo let out a soft breath, indicating that she allowed her daughter to ask whatever she pleased. Ellie held this question dormant inside of her mind for quite a while– a question that she knew would cause her mother to answer with a lie. In a sincere, emphasized tone she asked, "Mom, are you happy?"

She allowed the question to sink into her nervous system. The pursuit of happiness; she truly had to think carefully about such a question. The look in her daughter's eyes ignited a slight uneasiness at the pit of her stomach, which also struck a match and boiled her blood. Her vision started to slightly blur as her eyes were evidently building up with a sheer coat of excess moisture. Letting out a quick breath, she started, "I've got you, Tyler, a warm apartment and I'm not in financial risk. Yeah, yeah I'm happy."

The interrogating teen looked down and eyed her sheets. Shaking her head slightly, she wanted to let her mother know that she wasn't honestly answering her question. "Mom, I just want to know. Are you happy?" She swallowed carefully, afraid that her mother might be upset with such a question. She decided to add something that might get her mother to answer with the truth. "Are you happy, in here?" Ellie asked as she took her own right hand, placed on the left side of her chest and covered the most vital organ in her entire body.

She leans over and kisses her daughter's forehead. She didn't know how to truly answer her proposed question as she partially lied to her twice. She felt her daughter's eyes studying her every movement as she pulled away.

She was happy in a sense that she found love in her kids and extrinsically. But, for the past thirteen years, she had fallen asleep alone and she had learned to sleep in the middle of her bed so she wouldn't wake up with an empty left side. In her own bathroom, there used to be two of everything – two towels, two toothbrushes, two different sets of razors, two types of body wash. Now everything had lost its partner. She missed that mutual feeling of love, especially at night. Her chest tightened as the sound of him calling her name rang in her ear like a sickeningly beautiful cry. She cared so much for him, she loved him but she could never put a finger on it.

"C'mon, it's midnight. You can read more about Fantine tomorrow." She urges with a slight chuckle and when she went to get up off her bed, she suddenly felt weak. Her blood rushed to the base of her ankles and shot straight back to her heart, racing to her head thus making her blink a couple times. She felt as if her body was deprived of oxygen and most importantly, any source of nutrients. The four cups of tea and three coffees were wearing off and her system was starting to crash. With the few ounces of energy she had left she said, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Mom." Ellie called out and she heard the want of continuance in her voice. She knew that her daughter was dissatisfied with her answer and that she didn't want to hear a version of the truth - the truth doesn't have versions.

She wanted to pretend to ignore her daughter's callout as she walk towards the door but she simply couldn't. Her daughter knew she had heard her and she felt obligated to turn around and say, "I am honey, I really am."

The girl smiled sadly at her and she did not want to continue pushing her. She saw her nod and she simply did the same. When she reached the doorway, her heart started to pound. She was one of those people that Ellie had described - she was kind, she smiled brightly and she was seen as a wise figure. But today, she fooled everyone. She bit down on her lip to stop the sudden want to cry. With her back turned away from her and in a merely broken voice, she said softly, "Ellie, it's because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer they way they do."

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In her bedroom, she opens her chest of drawers and takes out her baby blue pajamas along with a pair of underwear. She moves to the bathroom and flicks on the light. As the glow of the light bulb fills the room, sudden mental images of his face scratch the surface of her memory. All she could see was his worried face, etched with anxiety, concern and fear. She cursed herself for thinking it but she couldn't help but wonder what he would do if she was put in Christine's position. Would he have ran as fast as he did? Would he have yelled as loud as he did? Would he have wanted her back desperately as he did?

As she closed and locked the door behind her, she reaches under the sink and pulls out lavender and vanilla scented bubble bath. Walking over to her bathtub, she suddenly notices the lightness of the bottle in her hand. _Empty_. She shakes her head doubtfully and throws it into the trash bin beside the sink. She bends over to turn on the faucet to her tub anyway as she desperately needed to unwind and soak her tense muscles in hot water.

If words could make it real, she would tell him how she felt. She wants to how it feels to breathe with him beside her, wrapped in his smell and his essence. She shook her head slightly, a gesture of doubt and denial as she is once again brought back down from cloud nine and into reality. She also had to come to terms with her pitiful generosity – she would always place his needs before hers, make him happy before herself. If he asked, she would give the world to him, every gem and jewel, and lay them at his feet. But, he would never notice the world's finest treasures, as he would push them aside to find a pebble in the dust.

She reaches down on her bare leg and removes the bandage that she had place on there in the morning. Rolling it up into a ball, she throws it in the trash and miraculously, she got it in. Before she steps into the warm water, she notices that cut starts to bleed again and wonders why the bandage was useless against the wound. It bled down her leg as if the red droplet raced to mark her skin. She wondered, how can her routine betray her like this? It was so harmonious and she would be able to cure any ulcer that would erupt within it. But today, the ulcer continues to bleed.

Wiping the red away with a tissue, she notices it that it refuses to stop and frustration builds in her chest. She could care less anymore as she stepped foot into the tub of warm water, watching the accumulated red droplet ripple off into the warm depths of the tub. She carefully sits down and allows the water to welcome her as the only source of warmth. She loved the water – liquor soothed her internally while the water made her feel touched, rippling inwards to provide her temporary comfort.

She looks up and stares aimlessly at her pale, white ceiling. The water leveled slightly above her chest in which made her shoulders shiver slightly as the cool bathroom air brushed against her bare skin. She arches her neck until her head found a resting place at the edge of the tub. Squeezing her eyes together, she attentively listens to the slight crackle of the candle and the subtle dripping from the faucet.

Regret tugs at her, as she wonders why she didn't automatically take his offer when he dropped by. Why can't she leave this city for the land of blue skills, white sands, dry heat and golden tans? Why didn't she just leave this concrete jungle for paradise? There was a driving force to her question. _Him._ There was something in the way he talked, the way he moved that made her think she couldn't live without him but she has to. It's not much of a life she's living – the world spins; around and around and around and around it goes but here she is, she's stuck in reverse, wanting to turn back time.

Life was hitting her over the head. She falls and bleeds but every time she finds the strength to get up. And without warning, another blow hits her again but each time she gets up, she hurts a little more, bleeds a little more. This time the blow was bigger than the strength she had to get up off her knees. In barely audible whisper, she breathes, "Leanne, can you hear me?"

Her breath hitches in her throat and she presses her lips together. Pressure builds behind her eyelids and a raw ache convulses in her heart as she feels it being plagued by an incurable disease. A round tear makes its way down her cheek and ended its journey as it creates the faintest sound of a splash. A second later, another droplet joins the first as if they were desperate to join their saline sisters in the tub of water. Her shoulders unconsciously tremble and she feels as if someone had put her chest in a straight jacket, reducing her supply of oxygen as the tension and pressure builds.

The only hope she had was perhaps he will have a change of heart soon but the probability of that was less than a positive number. She was an optimistic woman as she always hoped for the best. Two weeks? A month? A year? She didn't know how long it would be but she made a promise to wait for him. They say that it's better to let go – to let her sorrows, grief and sadness fly away into the wind, off to some undiscovered country. She should probably turn the anger, the yearn, the want into water and let it slip through her hands. But deep down inside her bruising heart, she knew such imagery was only an illusion as she bares the burden of a secret storm. The pain was a parasite feeding off of her hostess body, pleasuring itself until she was left with nothing but skin and bones. She's not giving up to fate, she's just giving in.

She knew that when she gets up from this tub and lays down tonight, tomorrow would just be another day, another duty she had to fulfill. But right now, in the depths of the warm water, she prays to the good Lord and she questions her guardian angel. She knew, she knew it all, it was fact – even if they were to be purged from life's greatest obstacles, their love would be latent. She had the breathing, walking, living proof. The one she loves… loves someone else. Using all the strength she had in her lungs she quietly asks, "Leanne, why?"

_[C'est Fini]_

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**A/N: This story was inspired by a real life question I asked my mother, "are you happy?" I apologize – I know this story was pure angst and linear, but I wanted to explore Jo's suppressed feelings towards Mac, especially during 9x15. Many of you guys said, 'I can't wait to see where you go with this'…. It didn't really go anywhere, did it? Yikes… **

**Well, I really hope you enjoyed! This chapter was quickly written as I wanted to get it up before I leave! I apologize for any errors! I was a little sad when I wrote this chapter especially when it reads, "two weeks?" because we know in 9x17 (two weeks after 9x15), Mac proposed :'(**

**Any comments, concerns, suggestions? Please leave them in a review below! I apologize for not PM-ing as a reply to your review! I will for sure reply when I get back from London/Paris in a week! I love reading feedback from you guys! Love you all xo. **


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